Catch Phrase Chapter 1
by JC4ever
Summary: Oh, just a bunny running around in my brain about slang/ad slogans


**Catch Phrase Chapter 1**

_Okay, this is angsty and silly and shippy, but after watching a multiplicity of commercials, and the new show "Trust Me," I thought a ficlet (or several) based on ad slogans might be kind of cute or depraved or whatever. This may be one or a series, and I am fitting this installment in the current season (wherever _**that **_may be). Adult language and content applies(M rating). As for the bistro (Mira's)mentioned in the story, totally fiction as I have never been to NY. I own nothing, I claim nothing, yada, yada. _

**Time to Quit**

Bobby Goren groaned as he reached for yet another file. The pile on his desk was melting like an iceberg in the Arctic, or the rink at Rockefeller Center. He glanced across the bullpen. Sleet and snow pelted the windows, driven by a mean northwest wind fresh from the aforementioned Arctic Circle. "I hate Mondays," he muttered, flipping the page with more force than necessary.

"Really? I thought you hated paperwork," his partner, Alex Eames, snipped.

He glowered at her. "I hate paperwork and I loathe winter and I especially despise doing paperwork on a shitty January Thursday."

"Oh, go chew on your thesaurus," she slapped her laptop shut, muffling a yawn. Alex reached for the bag of skittles in her drawer, only to find it empty. "Damn it," she muttered.

"Eames' sugar fix thwarted again," her partner chortled.

Alex was pawing through her purse for spare change or bills. What she came up with was sixty two cents and lint. Her nephew had cleaned her out of cash at the arcade at Chuck E Cheese the evening before. So much for a quick trip to the vending machine. She hefted her purse to the desk and grabbed her coat from the rack. "Be back in a few," she tossed over her shoulder.

"Hey, Eames, wait up," Goren followed his partner to the elevator, reaching for his wallet.

"What?" she turned to him.

"So, um, what are you doing for lunch?" he fidgeted as his partner pushed down button.

"It's ten thirty, too early to think about it," she raised an eyebrow at him.

"So?" he indicated her purse and coat.

Alex huffed out a breath, "Nathan cleaned out my cash yesterday, and I'm out of Skittles. Satisfied?"

"Oh, great. I mean...you have to go to the bodega. Well, not great, but..." the words died in his throat as the elevator doors slid open.

"Christ, Goren, spit it out," she moaned, getting into the elevator.

A beefy hand reached out to hold the door, while the other fumbled with his battered wallet, "Could you get me a pack of smokes, menthols?"

The door buzzed in protest, "No," she scowled, pushing his hand away from the doors as they slid closed.

"Fuck," he rubbed at his arm. He knew he should quit smoking, but not today. Bobby considered going back to the paperwork, but he had to get the hell out of there. He grabbed his coat, telling Wheeler, "Gotta follow up on somethin'."

Megan tried to swallow a chuckle without success, "Right, I'll tell Ross." She watched as Goren strode from the squad room. Those two had to be the worst-kept secret at Major Case, if prevailing office gossip were true. She bent back to her work.

Eames' boots were making a staccato beat on the bricks of the plaza, as she briskly headed down the block, head bent into the icy wind.

"How the hell can she walk on those heels in this weather?" he muttered to himself as he tried to catch up to his partner.

"Eames, wait up!" he broke into a jog. God damn, the wind took his breath.

She whirled around, impatience evident on her face, "You _**want**_ me to catch pneumonia?"

"No, I just needed..." he was breathless from the wind and the hike.

"You need to quit," she turned back and resumed her near-sprint across the slippery plaza.

No sympathy for anyone, Goren thought. Morose, he followed in her wake.

Once in the bodega, he paused to catch his breath, thankful for the blast of warm air and relative quiet.

He turned to the counter, gesturing towards the rack behind it.

Bianca, the young (and very pregnant) Dominican clerk, grinned, "The usual?"

"Yeah, uh gimme just a pack," he pulled out a crumpled ten and four singles. "And a large coffee and a bag of..."

"Skittles, yeah, I know," she chuckled as she looked to her right.

"What'd he do now?" Bianca asked Alex, who appeared next to her partner.

"He's annoying the hell out of me," she tossed a larger bag of Skittles on the counter.

"Hey, I'm standing right here," he grumbled, but moved to fill up his partner's coffee cup, and liberally dumped sugar in.

"Smoking is bad for you," Bianca scolded. "You know the commercial says 'time to quit.'"

"So I hear. _**All...the...time**_," he drew out his words, scowling at his petite partner.

"Seventeen thirty-eight," Bianca informed the tall detective.

Bobby turned to his partner, "Um, Eam...Alex?" He tried the puppy dog look.

"Don't look at me," she snatched the two bags of candy and the coffee.

Bianca pulled the pack of smokes from his hand, "I tell you like I tell my little girl, you don't need it, put it back."

"Hey, I fought this fucking weather to get those. She's got sugar and caffeine for her vice," he pointed to Alex."I got nicotine for mine." He fumbled for a credit card, hoping it wasn't maxed out.

Bianca looked from one to the other, her expression sympathetic.

"Oh, for chrissake," Alex grabbed her debit card from her purse, handed it to Bianca. She scooped her partner's plastic and cash off the counter along with the cigarettes, pressing them into his hand.. "You happy now, Bobby?"

"I owe you," he ducked his head down.

"Damn right you do," Alex snarked. "Dinner."

Bianca's dimples flashed. "Stay warm, detectives."

Once out the door of the bodega, Bobby lit up, sucking the smoke into his lungs like a drowning man. Alex refused to wait for him, choosing to take a scalding gulp of coffee as she scurried back to the office. The temperature had dropped further in just the short time they were in the bodega, the sleet was fast overtaking the snow, and the wind slapped the grit into her face, bringing tears to her eyes.

By the time she cleared the doors at One PP, her coffee was half gone. Time for the Skittles, she decided, ripping open the first bag while she was waiting for the elevator.

Bobby caught up to her just as she was pushing the button for the eleventh floor. "Thanks again...I appreciate it."

" 'welcome," she muttered, her mouth full.

He bent down to look into her face. Her cheeks were flushed, a few big snowflakes clung to her lashes. He was close enough to catch a whiff of coffee and fruity candy. Wonder how she'd taste if he tried to kiss.... he was interrupted by the elevator stopping at the fourth floor. The doors opened and Rodgers got on.

"Rodgers," Alex acknowledged the ME.

"Out for a break?" Liz asked, amused.

"Yeah, one of those mornings," Bobby found his voice. "Going our way?" he smirked.

"Yeah, Detective," her caustic tone softened by the twinkle in her eye.

Back at their desks, the air seemed to relax between the partners as they plowed into their work. Lunch was takeout Chinese, in one of the conference rooms. They were sorting crime scene photos from their latest case, and needed the extra table space.

Alex speared a pot sticker with a chopstick and took a bite, "Hey, shouldn't those go first in the stack?" she pointed to the garish glossies of the corpse.

"Nah, these are actually from the security camera right before the shooter went into the office," he rubbed the back of his head.

"'Kay," she replied, shuffling the pictures.

"So, what do you want to do for dinner?" he asked as the clock crawled towards five o'clock.

"I didn't mean tonight, Bobby," Alex responded. She looked up as Ross appeared in the doorway.

"Detectives, why don't you call it a day?" Their boss was holding his coat. "Weather seems to be going from bad to worse. Could take a while to get home."

"Thanks, captain," Goren was really trying to be civil, Danny noted.

"Yeah, thanks," Alex echoed. "See you tomorrow."

"Drive carefully," was Ross' parting admonishment.

"So?" Bobby waited as Alex put on her coat. "Mira's should have plenty of tables free on this kind of night."

She weakened at the mention of her favorite neighborhood bistro. "_**If**_ it's even open."

"So, I'll call," he picked up his cell and punched in the number. From the look on Bobby's face, the news was not good.

"Rain check, I guess," he sighed.

"Well, I suppose you could cook dinner for me at your place," Alex countered as they rode the elevator to the parking garage.

"Well, um, my place, is um, kinda messy," he stuttered, embarrassed.

"I don't mind," she smiled. "Besides, if the weather is as bad as it seems, I might have to camp on your couch."

They both were exhausted as they walked into Bobby's apartment. The storm had heightened, Alex's decision to stay had been made less than ten minutes into the ride home. Bobby waved her to the living room as he opened the bags of groceries.

"But I can help," she protested. "I was just kidding about owing me dinner."

"You mean you'd turn down free pasta?" he countered, opening a bottle of wine and pouring two glasses.

"Good point," she smiled, lightly clinking her glass to his.

"If you really want to make yourself useful, put on some music," he waved a wooden spoon as he put a pot of water on to boil.

"You mean I can pick?" she chortled. "No editorial decisions on my taste in music?" Alex scurried into the living room. After fussing through his music collection, she spied the Michael Buble CD she'd left during another visit and popped it into the CD player. She hummed along as the sweet tones swirled through the living room.

"Eames," he appeared in the doorway, wine bottle in hand.

"Not a word, Goren," she took the bottle and refilled her glass. "And it's Alex," her hazel eyes were dark as she looked up at him.

"I'm gonna grab a smoke," Bobby set the bottle down, picked up his own refilled glass, and moved towards the balcony door, cigarette in hand.

"No, don't think so," she grabbed his wrist.

"And you'll stop me how?" he asked, trying not to notice how the dark green sweater she wore clung to her curves, and flattered her skin and eye color.

"Simple diversion," she whispered. Alex's glass was on the window sill, and her hands had pulled his face to hers in seconds, her mouth colliding with his.

"Ea...Alex!" but the anything else he wanted to say was gone as she wrapped her body around his.

Alex took the opportunity to shove her tongue between his slack lips, and thoroughly bathed the recesses of his mouth.

The cigarette and lighter fell to the floor as Bobby lifted her against the balcony door. Their moans threatened to drown out the music as the kiss lengthened and hands grabbed at clothes.

The green sweater was unbuttoned and halfway down her arms, her bra unhooked and shoved aside. Bobby's lips grabbed a nipple and sucked greedily, causing Alex's back to bow towards him.

Flames were shooting behind her eyes and she felt as if her voice was coming through a distant tunnel. "Still want that cigarette?"

He growled in response, taking the opposite nipple in his teeth. Bobby felt raw, dangerous. The blood pounded through his body, focusing in his groin. Alex's thighs, still clad in denim, gripped his middle. With great difficulty, he shoved his hand between them, jerking at the button and zipper of her jeans, and moving the fabric enough to shove his fingers inside.

Any control that Alex thought she had over the seduction was gone in that instant. The feel of his teeth , the scrape of his beard on her breast and two strokes of his talented fingers between her legs...and she was shrieking hoarsely in a shattering orgasm. She dimly felt him carry her to the couch and lay her down. As her vision began to clear, she yanked the zipper on his jeans and reached inside, his pulsing length in her small hand.

"Nuh-uh," he groaned as she gripped his girth firmly. With one hand, he shoved her jeans and panties down just far enough to gain access, while using the other hand to guide his member into her. "Oh....fuck!" Bobby was banging into her so hard, her body jerked with each stroke, the ecstasy obliterating any concern for her well-being or his own.

Alex, for her part, was beyond anything but the waves of pleasure ripping her body in pieces. As her partner ,and now lover, fell onto her sated, her mind lapsed into the never-never land of satisfaction and total release.

In the depths of night, Bobby woke to her soft body wound around his. For a moment, he thought it was all just some erotic dream.

Alex's voice, husky with sleep, whispered, "What time is it?"

Laughter erupted from his chest, "Time to quit."

_Okay, not sure if this is how I expected this to turn out, but...there you are, a new way to quit, LOL!_


End file.
